


On Estranged and Prospective Family

by sunsetrose20



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Underage, M/M, Mpreg, POV Loki (Marvel), Past Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24717916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetrose20/pseuds/sunsetrose20
Summary: In an universe where Loki’s parentage is public knowledge since the beginning, Loki and Thor have been married for almost a century when Thor’s coronation rolls around. However, that doesn’t stop Loki from sneaking a couple Jötnar into Asgard on the day of Thor’s coronation.
Relationships: Byleistr & Loki (Marvel), Helblindi & Loki (Marvel), Loki & Sif (Marvel), Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 146
Collections: Best Thorkis





	On Estranged and Prospective Family

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is one of those things that happen when one doesn't find something productive to do with one's time.
> 
> Thoughts, ideas, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome.

_ His coat flapped uselessly against his legs in the icy wind of Jötunheimr. He felt the protective urge to wrap his arms around himself, but he knew that would only be a show of weakness. He wished it could be different. That there was another way and that he would never have to become a traitor. Loki hoped, in his heart, that if this ever came to light, Thor would see that he had left Loki no choice. To say that Loki hoped he would be forgiven was pathetic, almost. It went against his nature. Loki had forgiven time and again a million slights against his honour whilst Thor stood idly by, claiming him as property. Perhaps if Thor had ever interfered, then Loki would hope for forgiveness. But as the case might be, this would be Thor’s last transgression. The oaf even had the courage to grin and laugh at the “glad tidings.” Loki's treacherous lips could not help but reciprocate. Did Loki not agree that this was a sign of their glory to come? Of their prosperity? Loki cared not about such things at the moment. What mattered was that Thor had broken Loki's sacred rule simply by wishing. _

_ Loki could not help but swallow at the man mountains moving towards him, at the miles of ridged blue skin and the red blood eyes peering down at him. To think that he could have looked like that. To think that he  _ did _ look like that. Deep down where it mattered, he was one of them.  _

_ “What do you want, Asgardian?” _

_ Loki opened his mouth, then closed it, blinking all the while. Yes, what an amusing sight. “I fail to see the joke.” _

_ The Jötunn crouched down, looking Loki in the eye. Loki grinded his teeth, willing himself not to flinch, as the Jötunn reached out and poked his cheek with a finger, their surroundings slowly coming into focus as the biting cold faded away. “Do not pretend to call yourself our prince when you come into our realm reeking of Asgard.” _

_ “If you might recall,” Loki bit out, “I never made those claims.” _

_ “But your husband's family happily did. Or is he your brother? It was never clear to me. What about you?” The Jötunn looked behind him to his younger brother, who shook his head.  _

_ “Helblindi, please. I did not come here to argue.” _

_ “You should have not come here at all, Loki. You are as unwanted to us as we are to you. Have you heard of the term ‘mutual’?” _

_ Loki clenched his fists and looked behind Helblindi. Býleistr sighed but did not hesitate. “Brother, let him speak. The sooner we can send him on his way, the better.” _

_ Helblindi huffed and grumbled, “May I remind you who’s your true brother here?” _

_ Loki ignored him and straightened his back. “I come with a proposal you will not be able to reject.” _

_ “As arrogant as the Æsir, I see.” _

_ “Helblindi,” Býleistr admonished. _

_ Once more, Loki ignored them. “I offer you the Casket of Ancient Winters in exchange for a distraction. I will grant you passage into Asgard’s vault on the day of my brother's coronation. The palace staff should be cheerful enough to not cause you many troubles.” _

_ “Will that not get  _ you _ in trouble with your dear husband?” _

_ “Personally, I care not what you do with it as long as Thor is not crowned king that day.” _

_ Helblindi’s eyes glinted with the prospect of the glory he had no doubt envisioned, quickly losing interest in Loki's marital affairs for once. He might claim Loki shouldn’t have come, but Loki hadn’t forgotten about the interrogations to which he had been subjected after a long absence. Or all the time Helblindi had complained about knowing nothing of Loki’s life if it weren’t for the rumours brought by stray travelers. Býleistr, as always, was more cautious. But as Loki had promised, it was a proposal neither could reject. Unfortunately, Helblindi insisted on touching him, wanting to seal their truce with a hand shake. Loki rolled his eyes but complied, wondering what being grateful that Helblindi did not break his hand said about them. In the end, Loki could not stop himself from adding, “Helblindi, you might want to look out for the Destroyer.” _

_ Helblindi gave Loki a curt nod, but of course he could clearly not stop himself from calling Loki that wretched name. “Brother-" _

~°•°~

“Brother, are you listening?”

Loki groaned and tried to pull the quilt over his head. Thor, of course, would have none of it and pressed a wet kiss to Loki's cheek. Loki's eyes flew open as he wiped it away with his hand. “Ew, Thor, no. How many times must we go over this?”

Thor laughed from deep in his belly and wrapped his arms around Loki, swinging one leg over Loki's. “Glad to know I have your attention.”

“You have it. What do you want?”

Thor smiled, one hand trailing down Loki's body to rub circles on his stomach, and Loki sighed, shifting to give Thor better access. “Did he keep you up last night?”

“How do you know the child’s a he?”

“How could he be anything but a he?”

“He could be a  _ she _ .”

“Who’s the fertility god here, Loki?”

Loki snorted. Thor was a dullard if he thought that meant anything. In fact, Loki was more than halfway along and Thor was yet to realise Loki carried twins. It would be quite the surprise for Thor when the time came, Loki didn't doubt. That was where being a fertility god mattered. At least it had helped their marriage along. Usually, Jötunn runts had trouble conceiving, which may be why Loki was supposed to be grateful he was pregnant, though his childbearing abilities had never been questioned. Not even after…

Not even the pseudo-incestuous nature of his relationship with Thor had caused much of a hassle. Njord's first wife, after all, had been his sister, Nerthus. Needless to say, incest wasn’t popular, but it wasn’t unheard of either.

Loki groaned when Thor pulled the quilt away from his naked body. Since Eir informed them of the pregnancy, Thor had insisted that Loki sleep with his skin exposed, something about wishing to admire the changes his seed was forcing upon Loki’s body. Ridiculous, Loki had retorted, but the upcoming heat ended up winning. It was Loki's luck that summer was approaching, ready to arrive for the most tedious months of his torture. 

Loki, as he had told Thor a million times, was not ready to become a mother or willing to become pregnant. Thor, however, had wanted it badly enough to weaken Loki's barriers. So here they were, lying in bed and smiling like idiots as a limb pushed against Loki’s skin. So here Loki was, pushing Thor’s head away from his belly button, which had become Thor's new obsession since he noticed last week that it had popped out. 

“Thor, stop that.”

His brother—his husband, as Helblindi preferred to call Thor—chuckled and rubbed his beard on the taut skin of Loki's belly. It itched. “Your Mommy's so silly.”

With a huff, Loki resigned himself to at least half an hour of petting and of Thor’s rumbling voice saying nonsense to their children, but not before muttering, “I still think we should have waited.”

“Loki, Brother, have you any idea of how happy people are that the belly of their soon-to-be queen is swollen with Asgard's future?”

“Considering how all of you insisted I be put on bedrest, I don’t see how I could. Nor do I see why it is necessary that I bear you an heir when your reign has yet to begin."

“It will cement your place at my side. You know this. You could have trouble conceiving again or carrying to term. This is a good thing, Loki. Eir explained this to you.”

Loki averted his gaze from Thor, lips pressed into a thin line as tears pricked his eyes. No-one knew as well as him how his body had failed them before. But, Thor had always known that was a possibility. Hadn't he? Hadn't Loki? “You've always known what I am. What it could mean. What changed?”

“Nothing changed. Is it so bad that I wish to have a child with my spouse?”

_ Yes _ , Loki wanted to shout.  _ I told you every single time you asked that I wasn't ready _ . 

_ I'm still not. Neither are you, by the way _ , Loki added as an afterthought. Loki had no way to prove it, but he was sure that it had been Thor’s powers what rendered his precautionary contraceptive spells useless. Plus, Thor spoke as if everyone were happy about the pregnancy, or their marriage for that matter. Their parents had publicized it as an union between Asgard and Jötunheimr, but the truth was that many people looked at them twice and thrice before confirming that, yes, the Mighty Thor had indeed married his brother. Willingly, might Loki add. Now, since Loki had begun to show, the few times Loki ventured outside their chambers people weren't exactly shy about staring at his midsection before convincing themselves that, yes, it was indeed the Thunderer's child who swelled the Trickster’s belly. 

A knock at their door interrupted Thor's petting time. Loki's heart leapt to his throat, stomach churning. It appeared it was time. 

Thor patted Loki's belly one final time. “Do you want help getting ready?”

Loki shook his head dejectedly. How fun it would be to be ogled like a circus beast whilst Thor prepared for his grand entrance. He could see it clearly. Thor wouldn’t miss this chance to make a spectacle. “Don't worry about it. Mother should be here to help me soon.”

“I'm sorry about your ceremonial armour.”

Loki sighed and extended his hands to Thor for him to help him up. “You should be sorry about my feet. And my lower back. My hips, even. But especially about my once beautiful body.”

Thor, of course, only laughed and gave Loki a short peck on the lips. 

~°•°~

He shouldn’t feel guilty about this. He had almost gone back on his word, but he, in a foolish attempt to comfort Thor, had to bring up Nornheim, and of course Thor hadn’t missed the chance to make a gibe about his “tricks,” ignorantly and expertly humiliating him in front of a servant of all people, as if his pregnant state didn’t do that enough. And Loki’s problem was, he believed, just that: Thor’s ignorance, for Loki doubted that Thor, with his charming smile, was aware of his transgression. But, see, Loki also believed that he shouldn’t have to explain why joking about his “tricks” was humiliating. It was pointless, anyway, because of course Loki had tried speaking with Thor like a “healthy” person per Lady Eir’s suggestion, only to have it brushed aside as “It was a jest, Loki.” And never again, Loki vowed, would he waste his time with such a worthless endeavor, turning his trips to Jötunheimr into a necessity. If his husband weren’t also his brother, then Loki might feel comfortable speaking of what his father dubbed their “marital affairs” with his mother. But as he had no such luck, Loki had no desire to be reminded that he chose this for himself, because the sad truth, as everyone knew it, was: Loki loved Thor. He couldn’t stay mad at Thor for long, either.

Until now, that was.

Sometimes it manifested in the form of resentment coiling tightly in his chest, as it did when Thor patted his stomach; other times it made itself known as self-hatred rolling through his body from head to toes, as it did when Thor kissed him gently before requesting he go ahead.

Once more, Loki was inclined to break his word and leave the Jötnar waiting. But, walking to the throne room, the light caught his face just so that the memory of the pale morning light reflected on the golden walls of the city came to the forefront of his mind. The memory of his cheek pressing against the cold window of his reading nook as silent tears streaked his face. The salty taste of said tears, caught by the tip of his tongue as he licked his chapped lips before informing Thor that, when the time came, they would use a surrogate. He remembered, with that suffocating squeeze in his chest that followed Thor’s silence, the heavy footsteps that had echoed  _ away _ from him instead of  _ towards _ him. And, finally, there was what prompted Loki’s decision: another comment about the “tricks” Thor’s little brother was willing to play to put himself on the throne but without taking on the responsibilities that came with marriage.

“Tricks,” the woman had called it because all Loki did were tricks. 

This was one such thing and there was nothing to do but wait. 

Standing in front of a chattering crowd humming with excitement as it waited for Thor to make his appearance, Loki didn’t care if petting the bulge of his stomach was unbecoming, as some courtiers no doubt thought. Well, Thor should have thought of that before getting him pregnant. There was no denying it. Loki was nervous. The children knew it. They had been restless for the last hour, and it was taking a toll on Loki's body. For one, Loki would vomit if something didn't happen soon, ruining his life alongside Thor's coronation. As promised, his feet and lower back ached. There was also the matter of practically wearing a dress since that was the only thing that qualified as not-too-constricting for the seamstress, but Loki was used to her humour by now. He was arguably ten times more nervous than on the day of his wedding, and this was almost the worst day of Loki's life. Really, stroking his belly was the least he could do. 

“Loki?” his mother questioned, barely audible, not breaking her smile. “Is it the children?”

_ Not you, too _ , Loki thought but muttered back, “Fine. Just anxious.”

His mother gave him an imperceptible nod and resumed her silence. Not long after, the giant doors of the throne room opened to admit Thor inside as the room exploded into whoops and cheers. Loki closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, as long as he dared, as he fought the rising panic. He needed to stay calm. If not to look innocent when the inevitable happened, then for the children. Coronation-related stress was one reason Thor had forced Loki into bedrest in the first place. 

Fuck. What was he doing? This was his brother, his husband, the father of his children. The Jötnar he sent into the vault were, as much as he hated to admit it, his brothers by blood. They could be killed. What had he done?

Rooted to the spot, Loki took a deep breath as the coronation oath began. There were two paths now. Thor was crowned king and would name Loki his queen sometime in the near future if not today, or the Jötnar finally showed up and interrupted. And, just as Loki began to think his brothers had deserted him, his father paused, muttered, "Frost Giants."

Wonderful, right?

Loki wasn't sure he meant that, but if Thor's face was anything to go by, then, by Loki's best estimate, he would be pregnant again before the end of next year. 

~°•°~

“Loki, what are you doing here?” Thor demanded as Loki shuffled into the vault, interrupting the shouting match between his brother and father. 

Great. He was late. 

Loki glared. “What does it look like I'm doing?”

Thor's expression hardened, and Loki took a step back. Just in case. He had become very well acquainted with that face since childhood. Thor must be beyond furious. This was not the time to test his already nonexistent patience. “You're supposed to be resting.”

“I  _ was _ resting, but I…” Loki glanced around the vault, at the frost covering the walls, and then at his father, ignoring the clenching and unclenching of Thor’s fists. Beyond furious might be an understatement then. 

“Loki.” His father nodded. “Ask your question.”

“Were… were they my brothers?”

“ _ Your _ brothers?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Thor, you do realise I have family in Jötunheimr, do you not? They are my brothers as much as you are.”

Thor shook his head. “They're not your brothers. They're not the ones you played with, fought with-"

“If anyone should have abandonment issues here, it's-"

“Silence!” their father shouted, causing both Thor's and Loki's jaws to click shut, their backs to straighten to attention. Their father’s next words brought a blush to Loki's cheeks. “Your marital issues will be left where they belong. In the bedroom.”

“Yes, Father,” Loki mumbled, darting a quick look at Thor when he did not respond in kind. 

Their father leaned on Gungnir. “The identities of the perpetrators are unknown. However, they have been successful in taking the Casket.”

Loki paled. He had not planned that far. He hadn’t actually thought they would succeed. That he didn't care? Lies. All lies, and Loki knew it.

“Brother,” Thor called in a level voice. No, Loki didn't want to be involved in this anymore. “Now that the Casket has returned to Jötunheimr, would you not agree that it is only a matter of time before we are attacked?”

“You stubborn boy!”

Before Loki was fully aware of Thor’s question, the argument between Thor and their father reignited, their voices resounding off the walls with a slight echo. If Loki had thought his pulse was bad enough back in the throne room, then his heart was sure to beat out of his chest now. To say he was in deep trouble would be the understatement of a lifetime.

He needed to lie down. 

“Thor?”

His brother shut up at once and rushed to his side. Loki wasn't sure what it was. It might have been how his face had drained of all colour or how his hands were clutching his belly, but Thor grasped his elbow and guided him to sit on the floor, back against the wall. “Loki? What is it? Is it the baby? Where does it hurt?”

Loki closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, exhaling shakily once the cramps receded. He buried his face in Thor’s chest, unmindful of the cold, harsh metal of Thor’s armour pressing against his skin. “Take me to our chambers,” he murmured, wondering what the court would say if they got wind of this.

“Loki, no, you need-"

“I  _ need _ to lie down.”

“Son, do as he says,” their father interrupted. “And make this the last time I hear of this.”

Thor clenched his jaw and hooked his arms under Loki before carrying him out of the vault, gaze burning ahead. Loki knew this was most definitely not the last time they would hear of this. He also knew there would be bets about the children being stillborn flying around starting that very same afternoon.

~°•°~

Snuggling closer, Loki hid his face in the crook of Thor’s neck and let Thor continue to stroke his belly as much as he wanted. Under normal circumstances, Loki would have pushed Thor off him over an hour ago, but this was not the time to deny his brother. Even after insisting Loki count at least ten kicks per hour with him twice, Thor looked more than ready to murder someone. Loki hoped it was neither Helblindi nor Býleistr. And to be clear, Loki held no sentiments for two Jötnar he met barely a century ago. Loki would simply not go through the trouble of finding someone else to listen to his marital problems without it somehow ending either in the training grounds or with a hard fuck. That was all. 

“You agree with me, don't you, Brother?” Thor just  _ had _ to ask eventually.

“Thor, please. I am not feeling well.” In fact, there was a headache throbbing behind his eyes and the feeling that breakfast would make a reappearance soon was not completely gone. 

Thor cupped Loki’s cheeks and kissed his forehead. With his brow furrowed, he threaded a hand through Loki’s hair. “What if they had hurt you?”

“Don't be stupid.” Loki replied tiredly. This wasn’t a new argument. The Jötnar had been mutinous since Loki was recognised as rightful heir to the throne, but that was about it. Negative feelings had lessened (not considerably, true) with each new trip to Jötunheimr, and why shouldn’t Loki count that as a win? “Býleistr and especially Helblindi may want to throw me off a cliff, but they would never dare harm me.”

At least that got him somewhere. The “I’m not an invalid” argument had been falling on deaf ears since an unfortunate dizzy spell in front of most of the court led, unsurprisingly, to bets on when he would miscarry.

“What about the child?”

Norns, why couldn’t Thor understand he didn’t want to talk about this?

“What about them?”

“He has a right to the Jötunn throne.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “First of all, you can't know if the child’s a boy. Secondly, as much as Helblindi and you might hate it, this child is his niece or nephew. Finally, I, too, have a right to the throne, and I’m yet to be killed.”

Thor stilled, eyes narrowing. “You have not stopped your visitations.” Loki's lack of response was as good as a confession. Thor growled. “Loki.”

Loki clasped his hands together over his stomach to stop himself from fidgeting, for here it was again. Marriage truly meant resigning one's rights. Not that Loki would say that to Thor. “Would you not agree that getting to know the people of whom I pretend to be a prince is the honourable thing to do?”

Thor sputtered, “Loki, I... that's not... you don't  _ have _ to.”

“I  _ want _ to.”

Thor paused, thought about it, and clenched his jaw. So, he didn’t like it. No surprise there. “And I don't want you visiting Jötunheimr anymore. Make this the last time, Loki,” he warned. But, what, exactly, would he do if Loki didn't stop?

Thor unwrapped his arms from Loki, but Loki grasped the front of Thor's shirt. Where did this oaf think he was going? Loki recognised right now was not the time to argue about Jötunheimr, but what did Thor think he was doing? 

“Where are you going?”

“Training grounds,” Thor replied, huffing when he failed to pry off Loki's fingers.

Training grounds! That was the answer to everything, why not? Although, admittedly, it worked quite well for Thor, but Loki had a right to be selfish, too.

He bit his lip, studying the expanse of skin hiding his children from sight, feeling not guilty at all about playing dirty. “I don't want to be by myself right now, Thor. What if-”

“It won't happen,” Thor reassured, expression saying,  _ We have taken so much care. _ He sighed. “I need to punch something right now.”

Alright. Well, Loki could work with that. 

“Take it out on me.”

Thor’s grip tightened on Loki’s wrists. Strangely enough, Loki thought, Thor didn't reject his offer. “Are you sure?”

Loki licked his lips, letting go of Thor's shirt as his lips curled in a smile, the tension he’d been carrying around since he left their bed that morning slipping away from his muscles. “You won't hurt the child. Eir told you this.”

Thor hesitated for a minute, probably debating the risks in his head. But, the risks must have weighed little, for Thor shifted to kneel in front of Loki, shoving Loki's legs apart before crashing their lips together in a searing kiss, hands buried in Loki's hair with a vicious grip.

~°•°~

Loki gave a small groan of annoyance at the sunlight penetrating their chambers. Thor had forgotten to close the curtains yet again. Seeking adequate conditions for sleep, Loki turned his back to the window and buried his face on his pillow, the corners of his lips twitching up at the pleasant ache in his nether regions. Thor had not held back the day before. Speaking of which, “Thor? The curtains.”

Irritation prickled Loki’s skin when neither rustling nor grumbling reached his ears. “Thor, if you make me close them with seiðr again,” Loki began, hand searching for some region of Thor's face to poke, eyes flying open when he found nothing next to him. “Thor?” Loki called louder. 

Still nothing. 

Worry flickered inside Loki. On one hand, there was the bed, warm, nice, and fluffy. On the other hand, there was Thor, troublesome, probably mad again, taking out his frustrations on a dummy or pushing himself past his limits in the training grounds. Naturally, the second choice was the right one, but Thor would have to work a little harder if he wanted to win over their bed. The bed was the better choice. Thor, wherever he was, probably agreed. Had he not insisted yesterday that Loki should be resting? Yesterday was very stressful, after all. Their bed was definitely the better choice. 

However, as much as Loki wanted to, the bed was not a viable option for the rest of the day, as one of the servants let him know. Apparently, his presence was requested by his mother. 

Loki seriously hoped this was not another of his mother's attempts at having a family breakfast. 

~°•°~

Staring. Staring everywhere he went. Some of them looked like they wanted to touch, perhaps to confirm that Loki truly carried a babe in his belly. There were two babes, in fact, but Loki was not yet ready to reveal that tiny detail. It would only serve to make Thor even more overbearing than he had been lately. Everyone else, too. Those who weren’t would only bet higher against Loki. If Loki stopped fighting the bedrest, it was because of the stares his midsection attracted. More importantly, no-one could say that they had seen Thor that day. If Thor had dared to go on a quest, Loki could only dream of what he would do to Thor once he returned. 

Interestingly enough, his parents' wing of the palace, where they usually held private meals as opposed to the Great Hall, was empty. Empty and quiet. Thor was either late or not summoned. Although, it was still too silent for a Thor-free space. There were no servants catering to their duties. Could it be that they knew it was Loki who allowed the Jötnar to penetrate Asgard's defenses?

Loki shook his head, dismissing the thought as stupid even as he straightened his back. He may have been raised as Odin and Frigga’s son, but that would not have saved him from being dragged to the throne room. Not even his pregnancy would stop Thor from demanding a traitor’s death. To this day, Loki could still not decide if the sentence for murder was really worse than the one for treason. Loki knew because if things were different, if he had taken a wife and were she with child, and if that wife had cost him one of his most prized relics, he would not have pardoned her life. 

“Mother?” Loki called, willing his thoughts to take a different path. 

“In here, Loki.”

Loki cocked his head, briefly wondering where “In here” was supposed to mean. Then, he realised the door to the chamber in which his father spent his Odinsleep was open, a soft, golden glow coming from inside. 

Loki hurried to the threshold. “What happened?”

His mother patted one of his father's hands and inclined her head in the direction of a chair on the other side of the opulent bed. “Sit, my dear.”

Irritation flashed across Loki’s face. He would never understand where she got her patience from. “Father wasn't supposed to enter the Odinsleep for at least another year. Where's Thor?”

“Sit, Loki. You will need it.”

_ Deep breaths _ , Loki reminded himself, smoothing his face into a blank expression. Indulging his mother, he leaned back on the chair and drummed his fingers on his belly.  _ Let's hope your father didn't do something stupid without me _ . “Where's my brother?”

Like every other time either of them referenced the other by that family bond, a slightly pained expression crossed his mother's face. When Loki and Thor went to her a century ago with what they hoped was nothing but a pregnancy scare on their hands, she cried. She wept, and she sobbed, but she pushed for their marriage nonetheless. She could live with this, she had said, but it was not what she wished for them. When they made clear their intentions to marry each other to their father a week later, he said... nothing. He didn't say anything, and he didn't stop them from marrying. Loki was yet to know what his father thought of his union to Thor. 

“Thor has been banished.”

Loki blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Thor was exiled to Midgard late last night. Your father fell into the Odinsleep a few hours ago when I confronted him.”

Loki shook his head, static filling his ears. “You... no, that's not... that's not possible. Thor fell asleep next to me last night. He insisted on holding me despite how much I complained about being too warm.”

That was always his problem with Thor during the night. Loki would remember if he hadn’t argued with Thor.

“I'm so sorry, my son. I know how important these months are for expectant parents.”

_ Fuck. What am I going to do? _

“What did Thor do?”

“He broke the peace treaty with Jötunheimr. A handful of Jötnar lost their lives last night, Loki, your brothers not included. If Fandral hadn't alerted one of the guards of their excursion, I don't know what would have become of Thor. Laufey has declared war on us. Now that the Casket has returned to Jötunheimr, I would say we should worry.”

Despair washed over Loki. He remembered a sunny afternoon, sitting under a tree in his mother’s garden with a dusty book about Jötunn development in his hands, when Thor dropped a fur of an animal Loki hadn’t seen before at his feet. Large as any other of Thor’s kills, white as snow, some strange mix between a bear and a fox, it was the perfect rug, Thor had claimed with a broad grin. Loki had returned the smile, thanking Thor for the gift, when his brother sat next to him to present him his bounty, listing every item he had acquired for Loki. Loki’s smile had slowly slipped off his face, his lungs suddenly struggling for breath, his mind flying away as it went over every piece of jewelry, every old tome, every rare ingredient Thor had gifted him in recent years. Thor was courting him, Loki realised, and it was like the world had caved in underneath him. 

Loki had slammed his book close and sprinted out of the gardens, ignoring Thor’s worried shouts.

That was how he felt now as he placed his elbows on the armrests and buried his hands in his hair, hunching forward as tears blurred his vision. Thor was gone. What would Loki do? Thor was gone, and it was Loki's fault. How did this happen? Thor, his brother and husband, was exiled, and that meant…

“Darling, where are you going?”

Loki stopped in the middle of the room and wiped his tears. “I-I thought perhaps I could take something with me. Before leaving.”

“And why would you leave?”

_ Deep breaths _ .

“Mother, contrary to popular belief, I do know my place. Thor is my husband, and I'm... our marriage record says I'm his wife. I'm both legally and honour bound to follow Thor into exile.”

Sadness clouded his mother's features. “Who would take the throne, then?”

“What did you say?”

The doors swung open to reveal a line of guards. Loki's hands flew to his belly, eyes wide with panic. What was the meaning of this? The guards knelt with their heads bowed, and then a councilman entered the room and lowered himself to his knees, presenting Gungnir for Loki to take.

Loki stared at his mother in shock. “Mother, I can't. You know I can't. I'm not supposed to handle stress right now. I should be laying down in bed!”

“Loki, there's no-one else. I need to watch over your father, redraw the runes when necessary. Thor will return soon.”

“But, Mother-"

She sighed and extended her arms to him even as she said, “Make your father proud.”

~°•°~

At least he finally managed to vomit, which Loki probably shouldn’t count as a victory. There hadn’t been much for his body to eject, but it seemed to feel better now, and that worked for Loki. The retching, however, had alarmed the servants to the point that they went out in search of the guards, who kindly and most respectfully asked His Highness to open the door. Loki understood they were following Thor's orders, but that made Loki curious enough about their loyalty to his brother to see whether or not they would dare break down his door. And, as it turned out, they were loyal and brave enough to force their way inside and drag Loki off the floor of the bathing chamber and send him to one of Eir’s lectures.

First and foremost, if anyone grew concerned about his well being, Loki was to answer their worries and not let them despair behind a locked door. If Loki might recall, he had a history of miscarriage. 

Loki doubted any person forgot the feeling of losing their baby one week after their wedding, of having a healer say, “Your  _ wife _ has failed to carry your child to term, my prince,” with that mocking emphasis on “wife.”  _ Your child _ , she had said, as if the baby hadn't been Loki's too, whilst Thor nodded along to her words. Loki had buried his face in his pillow, skin burning crimson with shame. Why couldn't Thor have said, “It wasn't Loki's fault,” as Eir later assured Loki? Why did Thor never defend “his wife" from such derision unless Loki's fidelity was questioned? Why did Loki have to endure comments like “No wonder he lost it. He's a Jötunn runt” and “That's not the problem. It’s his being a man, not a woman”  _ and _ “Isn't he like one, though? With his tricks and all”? Were they whispers, those comments? No, they were things that a certain kind of people had no trouble saying to Thor's and Loki's faces.

So, there it was. The real reason Thor threatened to chain Loki to the bed if he didn't stop pacing at the prospect of becoming Asgard's queen. One reason Loki thought that placing him, the Jötunn runt, on Hliðskjálf as acting king was the most amusing thing that had happened to him. 

Sif, of course, didn't share the feeling. Not even showing her his rounded stomach made her see the absurdity of her treason claims. 

Loki leaned back on the throne, squirming as he struggled to find a position to alleviate the ache in his lower back. He had been sitting there for at least six hours when all he wanted to do was sleep and pretend this day never happened. Loki jutted out his belly a little more, drawing Sif's attention back to his pregnancy. “My dear Sif, if it is not too impertinent of me, I would like to remind you that Thor is my husband as much as he is my brother. I would have ascended to the throne either way.”

“The difference being that now you're king. You have more power than if you had been named queen.”

“I don't deny it. But, Sif, you forget that I'm heavy with child. I might be in the middle of my pregnancy, but I fear I am at the point in which all I desire is sleep, food, my husband's company, and a nursery that won't make me cry.”

Sif's eyes narrowed. Loki seriously, deeply hoped she was not about to accuse him of adultery. “Then bring Thor back.”

_ Prove it _ , she truly meant. Was that not what Loki always strived to do?

“Oh, but I want to. I crave his return as much as you do, if not more. Unfortunately, I have been informed by my mother that my father's last decree before succumbing to the Odinsleep was Thor’s banishment. It is a decree I cannot undo.”

“If Thor is your husband, and you are his wife, why were you not exiled also?”

It was official. Loki had a headache. A headache named Sif. He turned his gaze on the Warriors Three, who quickly looked away. None of them approved of Thor's marriage, but they had never expressed strong disagreement either. Well, Loki should have known better. 

“Thor’s banishment is not permanent. My understanding is that he is on a quest of sorts. The moment the quest is completed, Thor will be returned to us.”

That, it seemed, was the key. Not the pregnancy, for once. Yes, it made sense. Who better than warriors to understand the need for a personal quest? Perhaps it would even teach Thor some patience. Norns knew Thor would need it once the children arrived. Loki, too, if he was being honest. There would be some serious problems if Thor was not present for the birth, but his mother seemed resolute that Thor would be back by then. Still, Sif appeared to be searching for a new angle. 

“May I confess something to you, Lady Sif?”

She did not hesitate to reply, “Of course, Your Highness.”

“I carry twins.”

Her eyes widened, studying his protruding stomach in a new light. “You what?”

Loki counted backwards from ten. “There are two children growing in my womb. Thor doesn't know. I wished it to be a surprise. You see, now, why Thor being gone is most inconvenient for me, do you not?”

“How... How can you carry twins? You’re a runt! It is a wonder you have been able to become pregnant twice.”

Grimacing, Loki shrugged. “Perhaps it's easier if I don’t try to mate with someone twice my size, or if I’m not malnourished or under severe stress, for that matter. I don't know, but, please, don't bring up my other pregnancy.”

“I... yes, of course. My apologies. When do you expect Thor back?”

“Possibly before my due date.”

Sif glanced back to the Warriors Three. They held a silent debate between themselves, no qualms with leaving Loki out of it, but when they decided to kneel before the throne, a fist clasped over their hearts, Loki knew he had approximately four months for Thor to return before he had a revolt on his hands. 

~°•°~

“Will you stop staring?” Loki snapped. He could feel Sif boring holes in the back of his head. 

“Why did you choose me?”

“I thought you would like to keep an eye on me. It will be easier if you do it in an official capacity.”

“What else?”

“I think the council liked the idea. Mostly, I think it’s because they know there will not be any sexual intercourse between us.”

“Do you think this is funny?”

Loki huffed. Part of him wanted to turn around in bed, so he could look Sif in the eyes. The larger part of him wanted Sif to shut up, so he could go to sleep. “Just tell me whether or not you want this job. If not, I'll make something up and find someone else to be my guardian.”

Silence. Good, old, blessed silence. Now, this was what Loki had been talking about. Finally. Some much needed rest. Some much needed nothing. Loki wanted to shut his brain off. Of course he missed Thor. How dare anyone imply otherwise? But, Loki never told the idiot to attack Jötunheimr. Some may argue Loki didn't express his disagreement strongly enough, but Loki couldn't have known, alright? If anything, Loki should be indignant that Thor thought it was acceptable to sneak off in the middle of the night and get himself exiled when Loki was pregnant no less. That wasn't Loki's fault. It was  _ not _ .

From the sofa-turned-bed, Sif muttered, “What are my duties?”

“Observe me. Don't leave me on my own. The council might call you for a report on my activities, possibly without my knowing. You don't have to tell me what you say. In fact, it's better if you don't. Most importantly, make sure I'm not under significant stress. That includes letting me sleep. Your most important duty is ensuring Thor's heirs are born healthy.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to take the throne?”

“Of course not, Sif. That's why my mother and the council insisted I find a guardian. And this is not flattery, but who better than the Lady Sif to keep me in check?”

“You're right about that,” Sif grumbled, and Loki assumed that the rustling that reached his ears meant Sif turned her back on him, finally ending the conversation for good. 

Loki pulled his own quilts close to him. It was too cold without Thor, with no-one to wrap sweaty arms around him, with no-one to cage him in. Loki clutched one of Thor’s pillows to his chest and nuzzled his cheek against it, tears gathering in his eyes. Loki wanted to say it smelt like Thor, but it smelt more like Loki than anyone else. The pillow smelt like the lavender herbs Loki liked the servants to use when washing the quilts and their clothes. Thor’s clothes must have also been washed by now, smelling more like Loki than their owner. Not even this could Loki have. 

At least Sif had enough decency to pretend that Loki never tried to drown his sobs on Thor’s pillow until sleep claimed him for the night. 

~°•°~

“Where are you going?” Sif demanded, quickly catching up with him. Almost immediately, Loki hated to admit.

“I... I am not sure,” Loki confessed, stopping in his tracks. With a frown, he glanced back at the guards posted outside the doors of his and Thor's shared chambers and at the guards at the end of the hallway. The idea was unappealing either way, but there was no way they would let him ride in his state. If he asked to be let out of the palace, the guards would fuss about finding a carriage. No, come to think of it, there was no reason to go to the stables. 

At Loki’s uncertainty, Sif changed her question. “What did you want to do?”

“I wish to visit the Bifröst.”

“The Bifröst? What for?” 

Loki shifted his weight from foot to foot. If he was being completely honest, he had forgotten Sif would be following him for the rest of his pregnancy. He had woken a bit disoriented, only aware that something was missing. In fact, now that Loki took the time to look at himself, he realised he was still wearing his sleeping gown. How embarrassing. 

“Is this about last night?” Sif whispered. 

“I... maybe? Surely, I can see him one last time before his quest begins in earnest?”

Sif shrugged, lips curling into a smile. “You're the king. As long as it's nothing suspicious or stressful, I don’t see why I should stop you.”

“You say that because it benefits you.”

“Perhaps.”

For a second, Loki balked at her honesty before smoothing his face into a placid expression. “Shall we, then?”

She sent him a pointed look, giving him a once-over. “I doubt either Thor or the council will be happy to know I let you out looking like that. Or without eating.” Loki frowned and grasped a strand of his hair for inspection. He could not find it in himself to be offended. “My first day on the job you assigned me, and you're already trying to run from me,” she grumbled as she steered him back into his chambers. 

Internally, Loki grumbled too. He hardly thought Thor would care about his appearance at the moment. And yet, Loki did not complain when Sif thrust him inside his bathing chambers or piled his plate with an unnecessary amount of food. Loki didn't even protest when she pushed him into the war council chamber, standing behind him like a stone golem while the stupid carriage was prepared. Well, whatever. If Sif wanted to stand and make him sit through at least an hour of men shouting at each other about whether or not Asgard should go to war with Jötunheimr, then good for her. Loki had made up his mind long, long ago. Nothing these people said would change his mind. 

Since the council meeting ended with the loudest voices hitting each other with wooden swords at the training grounds, by the time merchants were ready to close shop for lunch, Loki had miraculously made it to the Bifröst without trying to murder Sif.

“Heimdall,” Loki greeted. “As I imagine you already know, I seek passage to Midgard.” He didn't miss where Heimdall's eyes came to rest. “Only if it's safe, of course.” Which Loki knew it was. The secret paths, which were by far more unstable, had caused him not the least of troubles.

“What do you wish to do on Midgard?”

Loki huffed. Of course they were playing at this first. “I wish to see Thor.”

“And what will you do when you see him?”

“Scream at him some, naturally. I may even get to hit him. Because of my pregnancy, I know Thor will allow it. I'll have to see where I go from there.” Loki narrowed his eyes. He could swear he saw the corners of Heimdall's mouth twitch. From behind him, he could feel amusement radiating off of Sif. What was so funny? “Well?” he snapped. 

Heimdall turned his sword in response, activating the Bifröst.

~°•°~

Loki should have seen it coming. A desert. Of course it was a fucking desert in the middle of nowhere. Or so he thought until Sif pointed at a Midgardian town out in the distance. It didn't make Loki feel any better. What were the odds that it was a mirage? But, as it turned out, there would be no need to throttle Sif. The wiggly things in the distance were, in fact, a town. A town full of people who wouldn't stop goggling his stomach. Back stiff and arms wrapped tightly around his middle, it wasn't long before Loki's nerves began affecting Sif, too. One Midgardian even had the misfortune of staring down Sif's sword after he pointed a small, rectangular thing in their direction. 

The man touched the tip of Sif's sword with a fingertip. A very unwise decision, Loki thought while rubbing his belly as a crowd gathered around them. “Wow. That looks very real,” the man concluded. 

“Do you know what year it is, lady? Because you're, like, a thousand years late,” some woman said. 

The man took a step back from the sword. “Look, I'm sorry, okay? You don't see a pregnant man every day, but yeah. I shouldn't have taken a picture. I'll delete it. Deal?”

Loki cocked his head. “What about an immovable, giant hammer?” Sif glared at Loki, who shrugged at the attention. “Mother said Mjölnir was thrown after Thor.”

“Well, there's a huge crater outside of town with a hammer at the center. I didn't see it, but I heard it was like a festival out there. Sorry if that's what drew you here. The government just shut it down.”

“There must have been a lot of foreigners, I assume,” Loki continued. “But, you see, we are looking for a man in specific. Blond, tall, muscular, and out of date like us. Someone who, ah, is a ‘thousand years late.’ ”

The woman bristled briefly at having her words thrown back at her but replied, “Well, there was a man who went into the pet shop asking for a horse, what, yesterday?”

Sif asked, “Could you perhaps direct us to this man?”

“Sure can. As soon as you take that sword away from my boyfriend.”

Loki nodded. “Sif?”

Reluctantly, Sif sheathed her sword. 

Loki liked to think it went smoothly from there. 

~°•°~

Loki rapped his knuckles on the window, heart banging against his chest. If he wasn't wrong, and Loki knew he wasn't wrong, then the blond mop of head sitting at a table next to a brunette woman was his brother. Sif agreed, for she knocked too when Loki failed to draw the attention of the building’s occupants. For whatever rule of the universe, the woman and Thor looked up then, eyes widening comically at the sight of Sif waving at them, a huge grin on her face. Thor’s chair scraped back and he rushed out to meet them. Loki, on the other hand, was rooted to the spot. He barely registered being squished against Thor’s chest, Thor’s arms squeezing the air out of him. 

“Loki,” Thor croaked in his ear.

Loki tucked his head under Thor’s chin, seeking to be reminded of the other’s smell, so he could order the servants to use that instead of lavender. He found that whatever this smell was, it was not Thor’s usual smell.

Slowly, so slowly, Thor began to move away, taking away his warmth, and Loki couldn't mute the whine that escaped him. Loki blinked at himself, then at Thor kneeling in front of him, pulling Loki's tunic up over his stomach with shaky fingers. 

Loki muttered, “What are you doing, love?”

Thor shook his head and muffled a sob against the taut skin of Loki's belly. Loki threaded a hand through Thor’s hair, the other wiping at his cheeks. The children kicked lazily, but Thor seemed content with that and splayed one hand next to his head on the distended skin.

“Oh my God. You’re actually real.”

“Real?” Sif questioned. 

“I... well, I didn't doubt what he said that much. He kept talking about his husband and how he needed to get back to his kid. Erik thinks he’s trouble, but I'm not sure you can make up his kind of story.”

Sif snorted. “Unless you're Loki.”

“I will let you know it’s an art,” Loki said, letting Thor press kisses against his belly. “You're just jealous you don't have my imagination.”

Thor laughed weakly and rested his chin on Loki's abdomen, looking up into Loki's eyes. “I thought I would never see you again. That I would never meet our baby.”

Loki couldn't stop his growl. “You do that to us, and I kill you, Thor. Did you hear me?”

Thor sighed. “I tried so hard, Loki. Just last night. I fought to the best of my abilities to reach Mjölnir, but she didn't budge when I reached her. I'm not worthy any longer.”

Loki's chest clenched, and he looked away. He didn't know what to say to that. 

“I think you should come inside,” the brunette woman spoke up. “I'm Jane, by the way.”

Without protest, Sif walked inside and didn't bother looking back. Thor rose to his feet and guided Loki inside with an arm around his waist to sit on a couch. He helped Loki find a comfortable position before kneeling between Loki’s legs, resting his head back on Loki's stomach. “I love you, Brother, and you cannot imagine how sorry I am that you have been exiled alongside me.”

This would have been that part where, had they not been married, Loki took delight in seeing Thor broken at his feet. But, of course Loki couldn't. 

“Oh, Thor, you oaf. There's nothing to be sorry about.” Loki shushed his brother as he tried to protest. “I haven't been exiled. Mother placed me on the throne while Father sleeps. I came here to see you before we must  _ temporarily _ part to assure you we are alright. You must only complete this quest father has assigned you.”

Thor's eyes glistened. “Is that what you think this is, Loki? A quest?”

Loki sighed and pressed his palms against his eyes. Is this what he had truly wanted? “Mother has given me no reason to believe otherwise. She does not agree with your banishment. Her argument with Father prompted the Odinsleep. If for whatever reason I find I have been lied to, I will follow you, Thor, wherever you are. Our child will not grow without their father, and I will not be deprived of my brother.”

Loki resumed petting Thor’s hair, taking and giving comfort for as long as he could. As much as it burnt him to let Thor blame himself, Loki could not confess to his actions. Thor would loathe him. There was no reassurance that Loki would not be imprisoned or executed if his actions were discovered. At best, Loki would be allowed to birth the children only for them to never know their mother's love. He could not confess. There was no need to. Thor would return to Asgard soon. It would be alright very soon. How long could it take for Thor to reclaim Mjölnir? And, as if Loki could forget, there was still the war with Jötunheimr.

“Do you think I'm cruel? Or greedy?”

Loki averted his gaze from where it had drifted to the ceiling, focusing back on Thor. “Why do you ask?”

“Answer me. Please.”

“Hmm, I suppose so. Sometimes. I'm not much better.”

Thor rubbed his thumbs in soothing circles. This, Loki told himself, was what he would miss the most. “Have I ever been cruel to you?”

“Well, not... not precisely. Not in the way you're probably imagining. Before we... became what we are today, I was just your adoptive brother. I don’t believe you would have treated me differently if we were blood-related, but you were my older brother, who thought I was so clingy I was the worst. 

“My parentage has always been public knowledge. I didn't have friends of my own except for the ones you provided me by relation. Mostly you, really.” Loki took a pause to swallow. “Sometimes, during training, when you were forced to pair with me because no-one else wanted to be my partner, you would hit me with more strength than was necessary. I tended to bruise. I thought it looked ugly. I don’t think you remember.”

Thor’s eyes swam with tears, but he pushed for more. “What else?”

“Are you sure? I might remember things differently from how you do.”

Thor snorted. It was weak. Deprived of amusement. “As if you haven't waited centuries for this moment.”

That, Loki couldn't deny. 

“I haven't always loved you as I do now. I suppose you couldn't have either. When you started to court me, I loathed it. I told you so multiple times. I wasn't even sure you realised you were, in fact, courting me. You didn't stop. The first time we fucked we were both intoxicated. The second, third, and fourth times too. It became routine afterwards. You were rough, and I'm not sure I always liked it that way. I do now, but sometimes I wonder. I don’t know when my love for you changed.”

Thor shook his head slowly, frowning. “You never told me to stop. You only ever said it was ‘wrong' because we were raised as brothers. If you had told me to stop, I would have done so, Loki. I swear it.” Voice trembling, Thor asked, “Why did you marry me?”

“Honestly, Thor? I don't know. When we told Mother I was most likely pregnant and that it was yours, I really, deeply hoped it wasn't true. I didn't want to see her face. I loathe that she ever looked at me that way. But then Eir confirmed I was carrying, you were ecstatic, Mother was only concerned with marrying us, and Father never shared his thoughts. I was happy, too, after a month of learning of my pregnancy. I was choosing flower arrangements with Mother, and I was... sad, perhaps, that I was already showing and frustrated that the seamstress wanted me to wear a dress, but, somehow, I was happy. I was marrying my brother, and I earned another two that more or less hated me as I did them. I was _ happy _ .” 

Loki placed a hand over his throat as he struggled to swallow. It burnt. Shoving these things in Thor’s face didn't feel much better. “But, just one week later, we woke up and there was... there was this small, little puddle of blood on the mattress, and... and Eir said we could only wait... for the foetus to pass through, and he was so  _ tiny _ , Thor. Do you remember?”

Thor wrapped his arms tightly around Loki, snuggling as close to him as he could. “I remember we had to restrain you once you saw him, and I hated it. You screamed until Eir sedated you, and you never spoke of it again. At least not to me. Until now.”

Loki covered his face with his hands as an ugly sob tore free from his chest. But, with centuries of practice, he managed to get himself under control. He wouldn't allow any of them to see how they had scarred him. “You never defended me when I was blamed for the baby's death, but the cruelest thing you have ever done to me is using your powers to get me pregnant after I explicitly told you I never wanted to carry a child again. We agreed to use a surrogate, Thor. You violated me.”

Thor squeezed Loki's knees, something sorrowful swimming in the blue of his eyes. “I never used my powers for that.”

Loki looked up from his hands, gaping. “You... you didn’t?”

Thor wiped away Loki's tears with his thumbs. “I admit I agreed to use a surrogate only because it is what you wanted. I wanted it to be you who carried our children, but I would never force a pregnancy upon you. I can only imagine what I did for you to think that of me.”

“I... don't know. You... you just seemed like the logical explanation. I'm a Jötunn runt, Thor. I shouldn't be getting pregnant.”

“Most runts don't reach adulthood, Loki. You yourself had barely become of age when you married me.”

“You know that, and you still resent the Jötnar for stealing the Casket. How many runts, just like me, do you think have starved?”

Something close to exasperation crossed Thor's face. “How can they not starve if they are cast out, just like you? That is why you are here now. Because you were cast out for being a runt.”

Loki rolled his eyes, something he did quite often these days. He had actually thought they were getting somewhere, but apparently not. “It's not just the runts. It's the children.  _ Children _ , Thor. They are starving. Everyone on that frozen moor is starving. Why would they keep a child that will perish either way? Why keep a child only to starve it? Don't you dare protest! And quit bringing up my abandonment. Only I, and no-one else, can take issues with it.”

Thor scowled. “Will you continue to defend the Jötnar once they decide to invade another realm?”

Loki scoffed. “They will not. Býleistr would sooner stab himself than see the death of an innocent and the universe could end for all that Helblindi cares. They are only interested in Jötunheimr.”

“So you have no qualms with them having the Casket?”

“I... well, I didn't say that. I do believe in preventive measures, but what you did, Thor, it makes me wonder if you realise that any child I bear you can be born looking like a Jötunn. What will you do if they are born blue?”

As if he had any right to be offended, aghast, Thor asked, “You doubt my love?”

Loki pushed Thor off his belly despite his brother's attempts to hold on to his shirt. It hurt that Loki was able to push him away. “You idiot, I doubt mine. I don’t know how I will care for them if they are born blue.”

“Loki! Don't say that!”

“Get off me. I need to get back before Asgard starts another war.” Loki craned his neck back and called, “Sif? We're leaving.”

Thor grasped Loki's hands, trying to keep him seated. “No, Loki, please. Don't leave me.”

Loki yanked his hands free and cupped Thor’s cheeks to lessen the effect of his departure. He hadn't come here to argue. “Thor, there will not be another war. Did you hear me? There will not be another war. I refuse.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Thor nodded, giving Sif and the Jane woman ample time to come into the room to hear him repeat, “Asgard will not have another war with Jötunheimr.”

~°•°~

Perhaps three-fifths of the council were unhappy with Loki's decision, exploding in outrage at what they perceived as a victory for Jötunheimr. It might have been a half. Loki wasn't sure. Some were as shocked as Sif had been when Thor voiced his acquiescence. It was strange. Loki strongly disliked Sif, and she could say the same of him, but she appeared to support him. Choosing Sif as his guardian had been more strategic than Loki initially thought. It was strange for Loki to work together with her, as Thor expressed before they parted, but having Sif, who was loyal to Thor and to Thor only, on his side helped the council see the benefits of negotiating with Jötunheimr. Some grumbled about having “women” in charge, which Loki didn't find as insulting as “Jötunn runt,” but Sif was threatening enough to shut them up. Moreover, Jötunheimr’s metals and jewels were too appealing for these people to pass up, goods that Loki informed them could be obtained without going to war. 

When Sif described the grime and gore that stuck to one's body during and after battle, the coppery smell brought upon by being drenched in the blood of one's enemies, it was a closed deal. 

Loki did not pretend to look forward to negotiating with Laufey or Fárbauti. In fact, he would skip that altogether. As much as he told Thor to shut up about it, Loki hadn't forgotten that these were the people who abandoned him for his small size. They didn't present much of a problem when his father forced them to recognise Loki as the rightful heir to their throne, but Loki suspected that was because Jötunheimr didn't stand a chance against Asgard a century ago. But, because his father was the one to negotiate with Jötunheimr’s rulers, Loki had never met his biological parents. There was that picture of his father with Laufey in the throne room, history books, and Helblindi and Býleistr would rarely let slip some “Mother said this, Mother said that,” but that was it. Loki barely knew anything about Laufey or Fárbauti, certainly nothing from personal experience. Did they ever think of Loki? Had they ever wanted to meet him?

Loki didn't know, and he wasn't asking. 

Helblindi and Býleistr were different. They came after the war. Loki wasn't sure what that meant for him, what that was supposed to change. Loki didn't know why he kept visiting. Perhaps it was because they were there on Loki’s wedding day, though they probably thought Loki hadn't been able to see through their disguises. They had been very well-crafted, Loki admitted. Unlike Laufey and Fárbauti, all Loki's brothers had ever known was the city ruins, the starving children, the frozen wasteland—Jötunheimr's period of decay. So, Loki informed Sif, as every other Jötunn, his brothers hated the Æsir.

Sif’s eyebrows climbed up her forehead. “But they don’t hate  _ you _ ? You, who are pregnant with Asgard’s heirs?”

“Oh, they hate me very much. I barely qualify as ‘tolerable,’ ” Loki said with a few pats to his stomach. They would no doubt die of laughter now that there was no mistaking the swell of his belly. 

“And this is supposed to make me more willing to let you go by yourself, how?”

“Dearest Sif, these little nuisances I carry might be mixed, but they are half-Jötunn nonetheless. My brothers would never harm me and much less my children.” 

As Sif took off her boots, placing them next to the sofa-turned-bed, her disagreement and disbelief shone brightly on her face. Loki hadn’t expected anything else. However, Sif would acquiesce to let him go on his own. It was Loki's belief that if Sif were as dull-witted as the rest, she would not have become one of Asgard's most prized warriors. In fact, it would be nothing more and nothing less than an insult to Loki's intellect if Sif, his long time rival, were a stupid woman. 

All relationships had their bumps, some bigger than others, and in their youth, after Loki accepted Thor’s advances to find that it was not what he currently wanted, there had been widespread speculation that Sif would become Thor’s queen. Loki trusted that Sif would see that this was a matter that required the utmost care, one that would fail if Loki did not present himself as just Loki, no titles.

Flutters and nudges brought Loki's attention to his children, and he stared at the protuberance for a long time. When everyone had retired for the night, when the sky was dark out and the room covered in shadows, reflections cast by the dim light of the candles, Thor would rant to the children about his day, his voice lulling Loki to sleep as Thor held him flush against his body. That comfort was yet another thing taken from Loki. He himself relinquished his privacy by calling Sif to be his guardian. But, if not Sif, it would have been someone else. Loki preferred Sif. Even now, as he choked on his sobs, trapped in his throat by force of will, while a curtain of hair veiled his tears. 

Tomorrow, Loki told himself. 

Loki would go to Jötunheimr tomorrow. 

~°•°~

As Loki knew he would, Helblindi blinked at his belly before breaking out into a choked laugh, even though this wasn't the first time Helblindi saw Loki with child. Not really. Býleistr, for his part, struggled with his discomfort at the situation and his desire to silence Helblindi. At least they never commented on his past failure. And Loki? Well, Loki was unamused.

“I still fail to see the joke.”

Helblindi sat cross-legged in front of Loki with his elbows on his knees, cheeks supported by his fists, and he actually cooed. “Look at you. You are adorable.”

Loki arched a brow. “ ‘Adorable?’ That's new.”

“You even came in your Jötunn skin.”

“Hmph. Yes, I thought you would like that. Do you have anywhere I could lie down? My back is killing me.”

Býleistr jumped to attention. “There's my bed. It's not as comfortable as what you must be used to, though. Here, I'll help you up.” He reached out his hands toward Loki, and, in spite of how many times Loki had said they wouldn't actually hurt him, Loki couldn't completely squash the surge of panic at being lifted into the air in Býleistr’s arms as if he weighed nothing. Loki, however, was not called the Trickster for nothing. 

Loki sunk down in the thin pillows, body relaxing in the ridiculously large bed that must look perfect sized to the Jötnar. Loki studied the crystalline wall, the tall ceiling, the ever so spacious room, the lack of luxuries except for what could be built out of ice. He darted a look at the vast darkness outside the window and sighed. “I intended to come earlier, but the court has fallen into chaos with noblemen challenging each other in the training ground since my broth- my  _ husband _ ,” Loki amended at the darkening of Helblindi's features, “was exiled and my father fell into the Odinsleep three days ago.”

“Have you been exiled also?” Helblindi questioned. 

“That would make you happy, wouldn't it? Well, for your information, I have been named acting king.”

“I think I should thank you for returning the Casket. Thanks to you, none of our men died in the process.”

“I didn't do it for you.”

“Oh, Brother, don't you think I know that?”

Silence descended upon them as Loki became engaged in a glaring match with Helblindi. Usually, this was the moment Helblindi asked why Loki kept coming back, but, honestly? Loki didn't know. Right now, Loki was supposedly on official business, but all the times before the last two meetings? Loki didn't know. 

Loki was the first to look away. 

“My apologies, Helblindi. I should have helped you sooner.”

Helblindi drew back, jaw dropping. “Did you, Loki Liesmith, just apologise to  _ me _ , a filthy Jötunn?”

Býleistr shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. “Did you come to ask for the Casket back? Because we don't have it.”

Loki huffed out a laugh. “Not quite. I don't want it back. As I told you when I first offered it, I don't care much for what you do with it. Unfortunately, as you know, Thor didn't share my view. Half of our war council is ready to go to war with Jötunheimr. The other half, including me, is willing to compromise. I was thinking- could you stop staring at me?” Two pairs of eyes snapped to his face, where they should have always been directed. “Have you never seen a pregnant person before?”

“Not really? We have a very low birth rate here,” Helblindi explained. “Mother had estimated we would go extinct in approximately two millennia. The realm was dying without the Casket.”

“I think I can see it moving,” Býleistr whispered.

“Of course they're moving,” Loki snapped, arms covering his abdomen self-consciously. “That's part of pregnancy, but that doesn't mean you can  _ see _ it.” Býleistr drew in on himself, adopting a kicked puppy look that was horrendously similar to Thor's. Helblindi, on the other hand, preferred a look that Loki had seen staring back at himself in the mirror at least a thousand times as he inspected the bruises Thor left him during training. With a long suffering sigh, Loki pulled his tunic up over his belly, exposing his blue skin to the cold air of the room. “Alright, come here. Poke me  _ gently, _ and you should feel them move. They get cranky when they are squished.”

Slowly and cautiously, as if Loki might retract his offer if they moved too fast, which Loki might do, Helblindi and Býleistr each placed one of their knees on the edge of the bed and climbed up. The next time Loki blinked, he was staring at a boy who, were he standing, would only reach up to his shoulders. Next to him was a boy yet another head shorter. The Jötunn equivalents of the disguises they had used to attend Loki's wedding. 

“Are you trying to tell me,” Loki drawled, “that all this time I have been arguing with children?”

Helblindi snorted. “It's not our fault you never noticed. What, did you think Mother had me right after he lost the war?”

He made a good point, Loki thought, but how could Loki imagine someone twice his height was a child? Well, not a child, precisely. More like an adolescent, but underage nonetheless. One thing was being the oldest; another thing was being the older brother of two children he had been pestering for a century each time something went wrong with Thor, each time his marriage became strained. 

“Just how old are you two?”

“I'm about six hundred years old. Býleistr about fifty years younger.”

Býleistr fidgeted with his fingers. “You're going to stop coming now, aren't you?”

“Now? I think I'm going to be sick.” Loki swallowed, breathing deeply through his nose. No-one had bothered to tell him the ages of these two, and he hadn't bothered to ask either. Loki had assumed that, surely, being as tall as they were, they must be of age by now. They were not. They were as good as children, and yet Loki had taken the time to discuss whether or not these children were capable of harming his own. “Come here.”

“So you can throw up on us?”

“Helblindi, you have two options. One, you don't come and our relationship doesn't get more strange than it has to be, or two, you take advantage of my hormones and we never speak of this again.”

Helblindi shared a look with Býleistr, the corners of his mouth twitching up, before deciding, “We are taking advantage of your ‘hormones.’ ”

“It  _ is _ my hormones.” Or something about the pregnancy at least. The prospect of being a mother was doing warm, squishy things to him that Loki hated.

Despite their decision, neither Helblindi nor Býleistr seemed to have the intention of approaching Loki anytime soon. But, Loki's struggle to sit upright must have looked interesting enough for them to approach; however, it only augmented the tension in the room. No matter. Loki had expected it to. This was the closest they had ever gotten to him. If Thor were to know they touched Loki's belly, Thor would become murderous again. Loki told Helblindi and Býleistr as much even as he pulled one of the hands of each to rest over the spots where his children liked to kick him the most. The comment made them as tense as a plank as they laid next to Loki, never in a million years having imagined that Loki would want them this close to him. Did they think Loki had finally lost his sanity? Perhaps they were even wondering what Loki wanted from them. If not the Casket, then what? They would know if they hadn't stared at Loki so rudely. 

“Everyone in Asgard, but especially Thor, has been guarding me with fervour since they found out about my pregnancy. I miscarried our first child, you see. I think Thor fears these children will be stillborn although he has never told me as much. I certainly fear one of them will not make it.”

“Children? Is that safe?” Býleistr questioned, looking up into Loki's face. 

Loki felt his lips curl into a smile against his will. “Twins. Thor doesn't know. See? I'm telling you first.”

“For a change,” Helblindi grumbled, snuggling into Loki's side. Unconsciously, Loki suspected. “For the record, we hate you still.”

Without his command, his hands began threading through Helblindi's scalp. Stupid hormones. 

“Hmm, and why is that? I, for example, hate Thor for getting himself banished while I'm pregnant. I hate him for never intervening when I was called a runt and for never defending my use of seiðr. Care to share?” 

No, of course not. Or so Loki thought until Helblindi interrupted the beginnings of his nap.

“I hate you for living it up on Asgard while I am stuck in a dying realm with a mother that barely has enough time for Býleistr and me. I hate you for all the glorious stories of the Odinsons that reached Jötunheimr, for all the times you went on a stupid quest with your older brother as you deprived me of mine. You’re my bloody older brother, Loki! Act like it or stop coming back. It's that simple.”

“And we are not giving you back the Casket,” Býleistr added. 

“I know you're not,” Loki mumbled, ignoring Helblindi's outburst. Again, he didn't know what to say to that. “You're going to bind me to it. Yourselves, too, I suppose.”

“What?” they shouted in unison. 

Loki cringed at the volume. “As you might recall, half of my council wants to go to war. Laufey, too, due to my husband's attack. But I committed treason for you. I had an argument with Thor because of you, minor as it was. My husband has been exiled for an attack I did not condone because you could have been harmed. I'm sure we can reach an agreement.”

Helblindi shook his head. “You have to take this up with Mother.”

“I will send him a missive tomorrow's afternoon if everything goes to plan. My council wants assurance that the Casket will not be turned on Asgard or any other realm. I support the Casket’s return as long as it is only used for the improvement of Jötunheimr and does not endanger other realms, which is why I'm willing to claim responsibility for Jötunheimr’s future actions. Bind my seiðr to the Casket and I will be able to track its movements. I promise you that will satisfy my council. If you think this is a sophisticated way of stealing back the Casket, bind yourselves too.”

“That's it?”

“Laufey will have little room to refuse if I am already bound. And as of now, the council has quite a disgusting, gory picture of war. Do you think they're willing to dirty their magnificent robes?” Loki scoffed. “They are open to a trade agreement.”

Helblindi hesitated. “We're not giving you the throne either.”

Yes, they were definitely children, now that Loki thought about it. He should feel more guilty about this than he did. 

“Good. Because neither Thor nor myself are interested in it. More specifically, Thor is in no position to argue with me at the moment. For how long can you maintain this shape?”

“Longer than we used to,” Býleistr replied. 

“Also good. I'm on the verge of sleep, and I absolutely forbid you from moving me from this place. We’ll perform the binding ritual in the morning.”

If either of them protested, Loki didn't hear it. 

~°•°~

If it weren't because she had been tasked with ensuring the safety of Thor’s heirs and by extension their mother, because his “probable” death caused her frenzy in the first place, then Sif would have murdered Loki without a shadow of a doubt. As it were, Sif had to content herself with slapping Loki hard enough to leave her hand mark on his cheek for the majority of the day. 

“Hit me harder. Why don't you?” Loki snapped.

“You said it would take a couple of hours, but you were gone all night! What did you expect me to do?”

“Not slap me!”

Sif clenched her jaw and stormed out of the room. Loki glared at the door and caressed his cheek before walking to the bathing room to inspect himself in the mirror. As Loki would find, the binding ritual drained enough of his seiðr to render him incapable of shifting back to his Asgardian skin for four days, which the council and Loki loathed thoroughly. But, at that moment, Loki's main concern was the darker blue, Sif's hand-shaped mark on his precious face. Then, after repeatedly failing to shift back (or to do anything, really) was when the overwhelming wave of panic crashed into Loki. Had he miscalculated? Was it possible that the Casket had absorbed his seiðr as an offering?

As it turned out, Laufey was as weary of war as was Loki's father. Although Loki, Helblindi, and Býleistr never spoke of the night of the binding as Loki requested, Helblindi did write Loki a letter asking him to accept Laufey's request to negotiate in person, which Loki denied. Strangely enough, both the Asgardian and Jötunn parties disagreed with carrying out the negotiations through written form, but Loki was not compromising on that point. Laufey was a healing wound for Loki. However, Loki wrote back to Helblindi with the joyous news that he and Thor would be happy to host them for a month after the children were born with the purpose of getting to know them. Thor, of course, knew nothing of Loki's plans as of yet. 

Albeit successful, his mother disagreed with Loki's methods to force Laufey's hand, even though the council was indeed satisfied. His mother also disapproved of Loki's refusal to meet with Laufey in person and the council brooded about not having exclusive trading rights with Jötunheimr, but Loki didn't care. He didn’t have any kind of urge to meet his biological parents, and he doubted that they wished to meet him for non-diplomatic reasons as his mother seemed to believe. As a further matter, the right to Jötunheimr’s throne was something Loki was willing to let his father deal with once he woke. Similarly, if Thor returned while their father was in the Odinsleep, Loki would happily hand over the throne to Thor. Luckily, after the fourth time Loki fell asleep during a council meeting or a petition, his mother agreed to take over. No harm done, she assured. Loki doubted it. Everyone, including himself, was happy to see him go. It had something to do with “traitorous Jötunn runts,” but Loki was already  _ happily _ walking out the door by that point.

Back to Sif, because her honour or whatever didn't let her resign, as Loki thought he could make her do after his mother took over, she agreed to help Loki finish the nursery. Before being exiled, Thor had tried to get Loki to help him, but seeing all those cute, little things that had been intended for their first child always managed to reduce Loki to tears. They still did, but Loki would sooner die than cry in front of Sif. Again, anyway. But that was their dirty, little secret.

In any case, since they were now building a nursery for two, the nursery ended looking a bit different from what Thor and Loki had first envisioned, having two of everything. In the end, Loki decided to give away every piece of furniture, clothing, and decoration made for his first child. Yes, that meant that his children wouldn't wear the clothing their grandmother knitted for their first months out of the womb, but it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Loki ended crying himself to sleep and unable to get out of bed for two days, but his pitiful state moved Sif’s emotion to the point that she did not grumble even once when Loki complained about something being in the wrong place. Come to think of it, not even walking in on Loki giving himself a perineal massage had brought Sif any closer to quitting. Perhaps she was the ideal warrior, after all. 

Another executive decision Loki found to be of utmost importance was to change the colour scheme from light blue to lime green. Since Thor was not there to protest, Loki found that it was a perfect decision. It still had some blues and yellows, so Loki didn't see the problem. It looked nice with the white wood.

Unfortunately, Loki was bound to have an argument with his mother sooner or later. Thor was yet to return by the time Loki reached the end of his seventh month and faced the most likely possibility of undergoing childbirth without his brother. But Thor, being Thor, thought it was a wonderful idea to burst into the Healing Room where Loki was currently panting and moaning, face drenched in sweat and one of Eir's arms reaching into his uterus. The bang of the door sent their first child wailing again, but at least Eir was done with what she had to do. 

“Loki! They were going to assault a woman, but I jumped in and got stabbed, and that was it, Loki! Look!”

Loki dropped his head to the side, another pitiful moan escaping his lips, to see Thor pointing at a stab wound in his abdomen. That wasn't fair. Loki hadn’t given the Midgardians permission to stab his brother. 

When Loki extended one hand to Thor, brow knitted together, Thor realised where he had intruded with one quick look to the screaming blue infant before marching to squeeze Loki’s hand. “Oh, Loki, I'm so sorry I missed it.”

“You didn't miss it. Look down there,” Loki assured with a pointed look to his spread legs. Thor hesitated, daring to look away from Loki's face for a second and no more. Loki urged, “Go on.”

Thor dropped Loki's hand, face twisting with apprehension as he stood awkwardly next to the bed until another contraction seized Loki's body. His toes and fingers curled in the sheets, and Eir commanded him to push. Thor plucked the courage to look where Loki directed him to see the head of another blue infant stretching Loki open. Thor's eyes darted from their wailing child to the emerging body of the second one and back again.

Then, of course, it was just like Thor to faint.


End file.
